A Christmas Wish
by KayValo87
Summary: When Danny goes missing after a bust gone wrong, his family prays for a miracle.
1. Chapter 1

**Happy Holidays Everybody!**

This Christmas I am giving myself a new fandom to write for. (Yay!) And since my friend was kind enough to gift me with Blue Bloods season one, what better place to start?**  
**

To those of you who have read my work before, I am trying something different and not censoring the language. (Trying to grow as a writer and all that.) To those of you not familiar with my earlier works ... you can just ignore that last comment.

Anyway, this story was inspired by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP's dramatic fic "Sins of the Father." (If you haven't read it, and you like Jamie and angst, feel free to check it out.) So this story is for her with special thanks to my fabulous beta, Shaz1.

**DISCLAIMER:** Blue Bloods and all recognizable characters are property of someone else that I don't know the name of, but they are nice enough to share as long as I don't charge you money to read.

Enjoy this free story ...

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"_Right on time."_

Hearing the voice over his ear-piece, Danny discreetly looked over his shoulder while still pretending to root through the trash. To anyone else, the man coming down the docks looked like just another business man and a couple of associates, probably coming to check on the cargo ship he owned, but the detective knew better. Gary Keller was a killer. Sure, he may not have pulled the trigger himself, but he was the one who ordered the kidnapping and murder of a father of three. In his book, that made Keller as guilty as sin.

"Hold position," Danny whispered into his mic, glancing back down at the cans he had slowly been accumulating. "No one moves until I say."

"_Copy that."_

Just a little farther, he thought to himself as he watched his suspect move closer to where his team was waiting in ambush. Ironically, this was just the way that the victim met his end. Kind of poetic that Keller should go down the same way, especially since he would still think he had got off clean since the NYPD hadn't yet released the fact they had caught the kidnappers turned killers. And unfortunately for Keller, it only took about ten minutes to get them to roll on their boss. No honor among heartless bastards.

"_He's coming up on my position,"_ Wilson's voice came over the radio.

"Hold," Danny repeated firmly.

He could have pointed out that he was well aware of the fact he was approaching that position since he was the one who told Wilson where to hide and could clearly see where Keller was from his own position, but why waste the breath? Danny hated bringing guys out on their first big busts, but as his father pointed out, they had to learn sometime. As much as he agreed, the seasoned detective just wished "sometime" wasn't on his six.

"_We got company."_

Hearing his partner's announcement, Danny looked back and cursed under his breath. A group of dockworkers, some of which look younger than Jamie, were headed between Keller and his team. Damn kids didn't even know they were about to walk into the line of fire.

"I got 'em," Danny replied, grabbing his filthy trash bag and leaving his spot by the dumpster. "Once we're clear, move in. Do **not** let Keller escape."

"_Copy that."_

Keeping his head down, Danny walked right into one of the kids, spilling his cans across the ground in front of them. Muttering apologies, he knelt down to pick them up, purposely blocking the entire walkway.

"Hey, old man," one of them growled. "What the hell?"

Biting back a remark that he was ten years older than the guy, tops, Danny glanced up and noticed something that changed everything. He couldn't see it too clearly in the dark, but he had seen enough semi automatics to recognize the one under the kid's coat. These weren't innocent dockworkers on a late shift, these guys were probably working with Keller! He was too close to the kids to properly warn his team, but he had to do something before his ambush was ambushed, and preferably without getting shot in the process. Shoving the cans back into the bag, Danny pull himself up and stepped back from the kids-

"NYPD! Freeze!"

Damn it Wilson! As soon as the call went out, everything went to hell. The kids went for their guns, as did Keller's two guys, and Danny and his team found themselves caught between two groups of armed thugs. If he lived through the night, he was going to **kill** Wilson.

"Don't even think about it!" Danny ordered, pointing his own weapon at the kids in an attempt to defuse this side of the situation.

Unfortunately, he was far too close and the loud mouth from before lunged toward him. Firing on instinct, the kid went down, just as another from the group football tackled him to the side, sending his weapon flying. Gun fire was coming from every direction, but Danny was too preoccupied but the punk pounding on his ribs to notice. Thrusting out his elbow, he managed to get the kid in the face, but a third got him with a boot to the head. Damn it! How many of these creeps were there? The sight of a blade pulled his fuzzy thoughts together long enough to try and disarm that one. He managed to immobilize the knife, but by this time they had moved away from his team to the far edge of the dock. To make matters worse, the previous hits had left him dizzy and he barely had a chance to notice the crowbar coming at him before everything went black.

***B*B***

Jackie rubbed a weary hand across her forehead as she surveyed the aftermath of what was, at best, a complete failure. Three suspects dead, two of which they didn't even know about, and two more wounded. On top of that, at least two officers had been hit, thankfully neither one was serious, and Keller had gotten away. She was so not looking forward to riding back with Danny. Speaking of her partner …

"Hey Mike, ya seen Danny?"

"I saw Wilson heading that way," the other cop replied, motioning toward their cars. "He's probably giving him the usual talk about now."

Jackie groaned and jogged that way. Danny's little "talks" could get pretty heated if not one else was around. And with two officers down, she was pretty sure there would soon be a third. However, when she rounded the last ambulance, it wasn't Danny giving Wilson a dressing down but their sergeant.

"And exactly why didn't you wait for the signal?" Gormley demanded.

"D-Detective Reagan said to move in when he was clear," Wilson stuttered. "I-I thought he was."

"And the fact that no one else was moving didn't clue you in that he wasn't?"

"But … but he moved back. He was coming back-"

"He might have backed off because those kids were packing," Jackie cut in irritably.

"Is that what happened?" Gormley inquired.

"You would have to ask him to know for sure."

"I'll do that. Where is he?"

"I thought he'd be around here," she admitted, looking around for her partner.

"Wilson?" the sergeant questioned.

"I haven't seen him. At least not since …"

"Since when?"

"Since the shooting started, sarge."

Jackie was starting to get a really bad feeling. Gormely ordered all the men not dealing with a suspect or a medic to fan out and find their missing detective. But after nearly twenty minutes of searching, all they had recovered was Danny's gun.

"Anything yet?" the sergeant asked, appearing at her side.

"Nothing new," she replied, watching new arrivals sweeping the area.

It was almost unreal. Danny couldn't really be gone. Images of Joe's funeral kept flashing through her mind, but it was a different Reagan in the coffin. No. Should couldn't and wouldn't give up on her partner. Not yet.

"Sarge!"

Looking up at the call, Jackie hurried over with her CO, almost dreading to see what had been found. Not seeing a body, she felt a brief moment of relief, until the knot of worry in her stomach tightened. She reached for the object, but Gormely pulled her back.

"Get CSU over here," he ordered.

The patrolman ran off to do as he was told, but Jackie couldn't take her eyes off the cold metal on the ground. The blood spatter across the gold shield a chilling account of what had taken place only moments ago. But where was the badge's owner? Where was Danny?

***B*B***

The first thing he was aware of was the overwhelming urge to cough. Gasping and gaging, he vomited up a stomach full of murky water and whatever the last thing he ate was. The next thing he realized was that he wasn't only cold, he was practically naked. The final thing he noticed was the strong smell of wet dog.

"What … the …" he groaned.

"Rest now," a kindly voice called. "You've been through quite the ordeal."

"That's an understatement," a second voice muttered, as a jacket was added to the pile that nearly covered him completely. "Here you go, Hudson. You should be plenty warm now."

Looking past the pile of blankets and coats, he saw two men sitting near a fire pit. The one who had dropped the jacket was a younger guy, probably in his thirties, with shaggy brown hair and a five o'clock shadow that was just shy of a beard. The other was an older man, at least sixty, with short, graying-black, hair and wrinkled brown skin. Sitting next to both was a large, light brown mutt and the four of them seemed to be in some sort of makeshift campsite alongside the river. A thousand questions filled his mind, but a few rose above the rest.

"Where are my clothes?" he managed after a minute. "And why did you call me Hudson?"

"Well, Sandy did pull you out of the Hudson," the younger man shrugged, jerking his thumb toward the dog.

"Yup, she's a good girl," the old man stated, patting the dog fondly. "And your clothes are drying out."

"Yeah, you're gonna get sick enough just getting dunked without full hypothermia setting in."

"Right … who are you?"

"Name's Wolf," the young man answered, sticking out his hand. "This here is old man Riley."

"What's your name son?"

"I'm …" he started to answer and stopped. "I … don't know."

He tried to remember, but there was nothing there. It was as if the darkness he had come from still had a hold on his mind. Everything was blank; no name, no history, no life. Who _was_ he?

* * *

So? Any thoughts on my first Blue Bloods story so far?

Let me know what you think. In the mean time, I'll get chapter 2 wrapped up and sent to my beta. :)

**NOTE:** To those of you who have not read my earlier works, I tend to write/update faster when asked and work primarily on story that get requested. So, if you like it, just bug me to update and I will.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, that was a better response than I expected. I guess people really like this story. :)

I would like to thank the people who reviewed, particularly Iris (who's feedback really helped), and Shaz1 for their awesome and quick beta work.

Now, as promised, you asked so you shall receive.

Here you go ...

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"You alright there, Hudson?"

He muttered a reply that he himself wasn't even sure if it was positive or not as he stared into the flames. How could everything be gone? His entire life was nothing but a foggy void and it terrified him. Still, something inside told him not to give into the fear; he couldn't show his weakness.

"I'll be fine," he replied after a moment.

And he would be. He would beat this … somehow. With a frustrated sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, which seemed to get the dog's attention. Leaving her master, Sandy padded across the camp and rested her head on his knee. He couldn't help a small smile as he reached down to scratch her ear. Did he have a dog?

"She can probably sense your distress," Riley commented.

"Yeah. Now if she could only sense where I left my wallet. Do you think I have one?"

"Down here, some do and some don't," Riley shrugged.

Nodding in understanding, he absentmindedly pet the dog and tried to force his fuzzy head to come up with something, _anything_, to tell him who he was. Still nothing. Damn, this was frustrating!

"You sure I'm homeless?"

"These aren't exactly the clothes of someone who works on Wall Street," Wolf answered, pulling said clothes off their makeshift line.

He had to admit, the man had a point. From where he was sitting, he could make out at least three holes in the gray sweater, two crude repair jobs on the pants, and he didn't even want to ask about his socks. Lucky for him, Wolf was about his size and had some extra clothes, which he was currently wearing. They did smell strongly of Sandy, but at least they weren't as bad off as his own.

"Clothes are good, but the shoes are still damp," Wolf announced, handing the bundle over.

"Thanks."

"Any time, Hudson."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"It's better than 'hey you,'" he shrugged.

"It's nothing personal, Wolf has always had a problem remembering names," Riley smiled, stirring a pot of soup. "He does have a point though; everyone should have a name of some sort."

"I have a name," he snapped, a bit more irritably than he probably should have.

"I'm sure you do," the old man replied calmly. "But until we know what that is, what would you like us to call you?"

Going back to staring at the flames, he tried to think of what he could go by. Still, nothing was coming … well, almost nothing.

"Just call me Hudson."

***B*B***

When Frank first heard his phone ringing he let out a deep sigh. A call to the police commissioner at midnight never came with good news, but getting a call from your son's CO at midnight dropped a stone in the pit of your stomach. And pulling up to the scene that might very well have been the place of your child's murder was something that no parent should ever have to go through.

"Commissioner."

"Sergeant," he nodded back.

The Sergeant led the way over toward where Jackie was waiting. Danny's partner seemed calm and focused, but Frank could see the tension in her stance. She was worried, but holding it together. They all were.

"Jackie," he greeted solemnly. "What happened here?"

"Commissioner," she turned to gesture around the scene. "Danny was here, Keller and his men were coming in from there. Just before they were in position, another group came in from that direction. We thought they were civilians, so Danny went to intercept."

"I take it they weren't?"

"No sir. But before he was able to signal the rest of us … someone jumped the gun and that's when everything went to hell."

Frank didn't have to ask who it was that blew their cover, since as soon as Jackie said it one of the junior detectives took a step back. As much as he would love to throttle the guy for putting his son in danger, he would have to leave that to the detective's CO. Right now, his only concern was finding Danny.

"What leads do you have?"

"His gun was found over here," the Sergeant interjected. "And his badge was over there at the edge of the dock."

"We found traces of blood on both the dock and a crowbar," Jackie continued. "We've sent samples to the lab to see how much of it is Danny's and should be hearing back about prints soon."

Frank nodded, stepping over to the edge of the dock. He looked down at the last spot his son was seen, his mind jumping back to the night that he lost Joe. But looking at the blood, he took a some comfort in the small amount of splatter. Whatever injury caused this was not necessarily life threatening. Until they found a body, there was still hope. God, please let Danny be alive.

"Reagan!"

He looked up to see Jamie being forcibly separated from the junior detective by his partner, as well as a handful of other officers. Based on what his youngest was shouting he must have heard what happened, and not from someone with any sense of tact. But he could let Gormley deal with them, right now it looked like both of his sons needed him.

"Jamie."

Hearing his voice, he stopped struggling, dropping his gaze to the ground. As the other officers backed off, Frank led his youngest out of earshot. Though Jamie still wouldn't look him in the eye, he could see the worry and fear that he was trying so hard to hide. Seeing his son like this, Frank wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and take all his pain away. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't shield him from this anymore than he could undo what had happened.

"I'm sorry," Jamie muttered, running a hand through his hair. "It's just … he blew their cover. And now Danny is-"

"Missing," Frank cut in firmly, making it clear that he was not searching for a body just yet. "Your brother is missing, but we're gonna find him."

Jamie took a deep breath and nodded, visibly steeling himself for the night ahead.

"Where can I help?"

Now_ that's_ a Reagan.

"We need people canvasing the area in all directions. Someone had to have seen something."

"Alright," Jamie nodded, turning to head back to his partner. "I'll get right on it."

"And Jamie."

"Yeah, Dad?" he paused mid-step.

"Be careful out there."

"Yes sir."

Jamie gave him a small smile and hurried back, steering clear of the junior detective that was quickly headed in the other direction. Frank let out a sigh and pulled out his phone to give Erin an update. She and Nicki were over at Danny's keeping Linda company, probably joined by his own father by now. It was going to be a long night for all of them.

***B*B***

Waking up face to furry face of a light brown mutt, it took a minute to get his bearings. Tent … camp … dog … oh yeah. He tried to remember anything before waking up in a pile of blankets, but there was still nothing. Just him, Hudson, the homeless amnesiac.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," Wolf cheerfully called from the fire. "We got pancakes."

"Do I want to know what's in them?" he muttered, rubbing his neck.

"Only if you don't mind rat."

Hudson looked at his new friend, trying to gauge how serious he was. Whoever he was before, he must have been good a reading people, because he could see right through that cocky poker face.

"He's joking," Riley confirmed with a harsh cough, visibly forcing himself into a sitting position. "We may be homeless, but we can still get pancake mix."

"Eggs and bacon are another story," Wolf added, placing a serving of breakfast on a tin plate and handing it to the old man. "So how do you like yours, done or over done?'

"Before you say anything," Riley smiled, "you should know that he can only cook one way."

"Not true! I made fried ham two ways last week."

"It doesn't count when the second is charcoal."

"Oh yeah? Well …"

Smiling at the banter, Hudson couldn't help but wonder if he had someone to argue about breakfast with. If he had someone to argue anything with. There was a flash of a girl with dark hair, but not clear enough that he could see her face.

"Hey Hudson."

And just like that, the memory was gone. Glancing up he saw Wolf giving him a curious look as he handed him a plate.

"You okay? You looked … I don't know … lost or something."

"The man did lose his memory," Riley reminded him, coughing into a blue rag. "But perhaps you didn't lose as much as you thought?"

"No," Hudson shook his head, looking down as his slightly burnt pancake. "Still nothing."

He thought about telling them about the girl, but what would be the point? He didn't remember her name or even her face. It wasn't like he could just ask them to help him track down every dark haired girl in the city.

"So, Riley had an idea," Wolf started, as casually as he could with his mouth full of food. "Why don't you and I take a walk and see if we can find your old stomping grounds."

"Do you even know where to start?"

"I would recommend up river," Riley said thoughtfully. "But after the shooting last night you might not get far."

Sounds of gun fire echoed in his foggy brain as his hand remembered the feel of cold steel. Had he shot someone?

"What shooting?" Hudson questioned, almost dreading the answer.

"Drug related would be my guess," Wolf shrugged.

"You don't seem worried."

"It happens," Wolf replied dismissively. "Best to just avoid it and ignore it, you live longer. Besides, that area has to be crawling with cops by now and, believe me, you don't want to tangle with the NYPD."

Hudson nodded, as another imaged flashed across his mind. This was clearer, of him punching a man in the face and pulling out a gun. Was he a killer? The very thought of it tied a knot in his stomach.

"Well, once you're done eating, we can head out."

Looking back at the black and brown pancake, Hudson realized that he no longer had an appetite. Instead, he set his plate down in front of Sandy and stood up.

"Done, let's go."

Wolf rolled his eyes, muttering something about nobody appreciating him and grabbed his worn out coat. Hudson grabbed his own and jammed his feet into his shoes, cursing at how cold they were.

"Next time, leave them closer to the fire," Wolf advised, before turning to Riley. "Want me to get you some more meds?"

"I should be fine, but tea would be good."

The younger man nodded, patted Sandy on the head, and heading out of the camp. With one last look at Riley, who was once again coughing into his rag, Hudson followed.

"He okay?"

"It's that time of year again," Wolf sighed, suddenly serious. "See, the thing is, Riley has been on the street for almost forty years now and a life like that … it takes a toll on a guy."

Hudson glanced back in time to see Riley lay down; Sandy curled up at his side. The man did look pretty bad. Had he been like that the night before?

"It happens every time the weather get cold," Wolf continued. "He tells me not to worry, but-"

"You can't help it?"

"Do ya blame me?" Wolf snorted. "I mean, the guy has been like a father to me since I got evicted, like, six years ago. And every year … well, it's been getting pretty bad."

""How bad is pretty bad?"

Wolf took a deep breath and opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly froze. Hudson tensed, his hand instinctively going to his hip as he looked around. Why was he touching his hip?

"Come on, Hudson, we better bail."

"Why? What is it?"

Wolf didn't answer as the two ducked behind a dumpster. Hudson held his breath as he saw a shadow approach and fall away. After a minute, Wolf peeked out and signalled that the coast was clear.

"What the hell was that?"

"Cops."

Somewhere inside him, something gnawed at his memory. Something to do with cops, but he wasn't sure what. Was he running from them before falling in the river?

"Just curious, why don't you like cops?"

"Please," Wolf rolled his eyes. "If you met half as many as I have, you would dislike them too."

Maybe he had, and maybe he did, but Hudson would have to worry about that later. Right now, he needed to find where he came from … and who he was.

* * *

That's all for now. What do you think of Wolf and Riley?

Oh, and for all those who are wondering, Jamie will start showing up a lot more from here on out. (I can't help it, I love that Reagan. :) )

Anyway, send me you comments/questions/suggestions while I get started on the new chapter.

**SIDE NOTE:** If I get as good a response as the last one, I'll try and get two chapters to my beta over the weekend instead of just one. In any case, I'll update again Monday.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay. (I meant to have this up this morning.) Had stuff to do to get ready for my next college term.

Anyway, I was asked to show Jamie and Jackie. As you know, I tried to give people what they want. :)

A huge thanks to my beta, Shaz1, as well as the people who reviewed, such as Iris and Accounting Professional. (Your feedback really helps.)

Enjoy ...

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**Chapter 3**

Jackie looked over the rap sheet of Eric Connors, the kid whose prints were on the crowbar. He wasn't talking, but as soon as they got the lab results back they would still have enough to put him in Rikers. Until then, she was just going to have to keep pushing to find out what happened to Danny. It had been nearly eight hours with no leads and every minute that passed lessened the chance of a happy ending, but her dark thoughts were broken by the sound of her desk phone.

"Curatola."

"Detective, this is Dr. Alkon at the crime lab. We still need to wait on DNA confirmation, but preliminary tests on the blood from the crowbar show a match to Detective Reagan's blood type."

"Great," Jackie answered, wondering if the news could be counted as good or bad. "How about the rest of the blood from the dock?"

"Two types were found there," the lab tech paused. "Yes, one was the same type as the crowbar, the other was the rare AB-."

"How rare is rare?"

"Less than one percent of the world's population."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"I'll call you if there is."

"Thanks Doc."

She hung up with the lab and immediately pulled up the rest of the rap sheets. If there were two blood types on the dock, then they might have a witness to what happened to her partner. Or, at the very least, someone to push if Mr. Crowbar kept refusing to talk.

"Jackie."

She looked up to see Erin heading her way. She really wasn't surprised to see Danny's sister on the case. It was all hands on deck for this one, especially if your name happened to be Reagan. Still, she wasn't expecting to see her at the precinct this early into it.

"Hey, how's Linda doing?"

"Hanging in there," Erin sighed. "Grandpa and Nicki are with her. They told the boys that Danny was working on a case, so we are trying to keep things as normal as possible until we know more. Have you found anything new?"

"Preliminary blood tests are back," Jackie replied, handing over the case file. "Still waiting on DNA, but it looks like it's Danny's blood on the crowbar."

The ADA nodded, calmly looking over the information with what would seem like cool detachment; or at least it would to someone who had never met the woman. There was a tension that was not often present and a flash of hatred in her eyes. Erin and Danny may not have a relationship that was all lollipops and rainbows, but he was still her brother and she was still a Reagan. When she got the guy who did this in a courtroom, heaven help the son of a bitch.

"What about the blood on the dock?"

"Two types," Jackie answered, running a check on their suspects. "And, I think I found where the other one came from."

Erin circled to her side of the desk to look over her shoulder as she started to read.

"John Hastings, age 20, junior at NYU, no priors; but his blood type matches the one found on the scene and was brought in with a busted nose."

"Why don't you ask him where he got it."

***B*B***

Hudson walked the streets, hoping something would trigger another memory. Though the streets themselves seemed familiar, his mind was still a complete blank.

"I don't get it," Hudson sigh, shaking his head. "If you asked me to name the five boroughs I could do it in a heartbeat, but I can't remember the last time I was on the subway."

"Eh, minds are funny that way. If you need proof, just look around."

All it took was seeing a guy at the corner talking to a cockroach for Wolf to have made his point; not that it gave him much comfort. All he had been able to clearly remember was handing out beat downs and shooting at people. And what about the shooting they heard. Had he been involved? Was he some kind of homeless drug dealer or ex-mob enforcer? The thought of it made him sick and Hudson couldn't help but wonder if he even wanted to remember.

"Here's Riley's tea place," Wolf announced, stopping outside a small Asian market. "You want to come in?"

"Nah, you go ahead."

He shrugged and stepped inside while Hudson took the time to look around. This was a side of New York that the average tourist didn't see, but still seemed natural; comfortable even. This was his world, or at least a part of it, he was sure.

"Well, look who's here," a voice sneered, causing him to turn. "The big man himself."

The speaker was a young guy, probably in his early twenties with a shaved head and at least a dozen tattoos. However, even this punk seemed to fit in somewhere in the foggy reaches of his mind. Of course, his tone made if obvious that they were not friends. Rivals maybe? But that didn't make any sense, he was homeless. Wasn't he?

"Hey man, I was talking to you."

"Yeah," Hudson replied, his face automatically becoming a smirk, "but then you assumed I was listening."

"You think you're tough?" the punk growled, pulling a gun. "You're just stupid."

Even staring down the barrel of a gun, even seeing the murderous gleam in the kid's eye, something inside Hudson kept him calm. Giving into that instinct he smiled, grabbed the weapon twisting it out of the punk's hands and simultaneously punched him in the face. His opponent went down hard, just as Wolf coming out of the store.

"You done?" Hudson asked, tossing the gun in a dumpster and stepping around the kid to join his friend.

"Uh … yeah, um… who is-"

"Not important," he replied, waving his hand dismissively.

Wolf looked concerned, but said nothing as the two walked away. Then again, the speed he walked away spoke a lot louder than words. Hudson kept up, but didn't feel as much urgency. Something about the altercation felt… right. But if that was the case, what kind of man did that make him?

***B*B***

Jamie looked down the busy street as dozens of people hurried off to work. How could life go on as normal when deep inside he felt dead. He had just started his shift when the call came out that one of their own was missing, but it wasn't until he reached the scene that this nightmare really started. Danny was gone and all he could do was search and pray that he had not lost his last brother.

"Reagan," Renzulli called, as he walked toward their squad car. "Time to head in."

"Now?"

"Come on kid, everyone has got to sleep," he nodded his head toward the car. "Let someone else have a turn."

As much as he trusted the skills and abilities of his fellow officers, it wasn't their brother out there. Every minute that passed took away some hope, and that hope was all he and his family had to hold onto. He couldn't just stop, not until Danny was found.

"You go," he replied, turning back to the streets. "I'll join the next shift."

He heard his TO sigh, but kept his eyes on the people around him. Had one of them seen something? Did they hold the key to bringing this hunt to an end?

"Look," Renzulli started, appearing at his side. "I know how you must feel-"

"Do you?" Jamie challenged.

He knew he shouldn't be so short with his sergeant, but at the moment he didn't care. Danny was still missing and even if he had to defy a direct order to stop from the police commissioner himself, he was not going to rest until he brought him home.

"I'm going to do you a favor and ignore that," Renzulli stated seriously. "But you need to think about this. You are no good to your brother if you are dead on your feet. Now …"

Though the sergeant was still talking, Jamie stopped listening when he noticed something across the street. Now, it might have been just another couple of homeless guys on their way to a nearby mission for breakfast, but something about them caught his eye. If you looked past the dingy long coat and moth eaten wool hat-

"Reagan! You still with me?"

"Uh … yeah, just … give me a second."

Taking his eyes off the familiar image just long enough to jog across the street, Jamie approached the two figures. It could be just his mind playing tricks on him, but one of those two men looked just like Danny.

"Excuse me!" he called out, trying to get the bums' attention.

He got it, but no sooner had the men looked up then they both took off running. No longer completely sure of what he saw, but knowing that no one bolts from the police unless they had something to hide, Jamie raced after them. Barely managing to radio in his pursuit, the rookie pushed himself to keep up. They had to have a reason to run and maybe, just maybe, that reason was his brother._ Hang on Danny,_ he thought as he tracked the two men through the dismal neighborhood, _I'm coming._

* * *

So, what do you think is gonna happen when Jamie catches up to them?

I hope people still review this chapter, as I am set to update again before the night is over. (For me, that's the next few hours.) I look forward to your feedback.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again! I had received such a great response over the weekend that I decided to post twice today, with the help of my fabulous beta Shaz1. (I hope you don't mind.)

Also, so many people were asking for Jamie to find Danny. As usual, I try to give people what they asked for.

However, I'm not sure this is what you had in mind ...

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Damn!" Wolf panted, as the two rounded another corner. "This guy needs an off switch or something."

Ignoring the latest of his companion's commentary, Hudson led the way into yet another ally. Halfway through, he ducked between two buildings, emerging on another street. But the crash of a knocked over trash can signaled that they had yet to lose their pursuer.

"And _this_ is why you should never tangle with the NYPD."

As annoying as the chatter was, Hudson was beginning to agree. This kid wouldn't stop! If they wanted any chance of getting away, they were going to have to change tactics. Flight was out, it was time to fight.

"Back here," he whispered, pulling his companion into a darkened doorway.

Motioning for Wolf to keep quiet, Hudson discreetly peeked into the ally. The cop was at the entrance, headed straight toward them. He was young, like the punk he had already dealt with, but this one already had his gun in plain view. In fact, but the time he set foot into the quiet ally, the cop's gun was already in his hands.

"What are you-"

Clamping his own hand over Wolf's mouth, Hudson kept his eyes trained on the cop and tried to allow his instincts to take over once again. As soon as the officer was in range, Hudson made a grab for the gun. Unfortunately, it appeared the kid's instincts were just as good, causing a brief wrestling match over the weapon. It was close, but whoever he was before had taken a lot of time to get in shape. Hudson soon found himself overpowering the cop, pinning him to the wall, and getting control of the gun. The officer's eyes grew wide as they got their first good look at each other. He was little more than a kid, probably fresh out of college. He almost hated to finish the job, but knowing that the other cops had to be closing in forced Hudson to move quickly. He slammed the gun against the officer's head, allowing the body to drop to the ground.

"Sweet dreams," he muttered, looking down at the weapon in his hands.

Everything he had seen, everything he remembered, told him that he was not the world's nicest guy. He had shadows in his life, perhaps darker than he would care to know, but did those shadows run into murder? As right as the gun felt in his hand, something inside told him to leave the cop as he was. Of course, that might have just been the guy standing next to him.

"Are you insane!" Wolf shouted. "We are going to be on their hit list just for _running_ from them! Do you know how bad the idea of attacking a cop is?"

"Relax," Hudson assured him, tucking the gun into the waistband of his pants. "I'm not gonna kill him."

"Well you already- Oh no," Wolf shook his head. "You are **not** taking that cop's gun. That's a bad idea, a hugely bad idea. If the Titanic was one giant bad idea,_ this would be bigger._"

"You finished?"

Wolf took a deep breath and grabbed the gun, dropping it next to the cop. Hudson started to protest, but then he saw the fear shining in his new friend's eyes. With a slightly shaking hand, Wolf lifted the edge of his sweater to reveal several scars. Most were light and long, but one was perfectly round; a sealed hole in his pale side.

"I've already paid a price for crossing a cop, I'm not about to stand by and watch you do it too."

Before Hudson could say anything, the cop's radio crackled to life just before sirens were heard in the distance. Time to go. The two raced out of the ally and back toward their camp, but all the while the image of those scars burned in Hudson's mind. Whatever had happened, he knew Wolf couldn't have done anything to deserve it. By the time they made it back home, he had promised himself to find out who had hurt his friend … and make them pay.

***B*B***

Jackie stepped into the interrogation room and sat down across from one very nervous college student. Calmly, she laid a picture of Danny on the table. It was his official NYPD portrait, with him in his dress uniform; the one she prayed would not soon be next to his brother's on the Wall of Heroes.

"You know who this is?"

"A cop?" Hastings answered, his voice altered slightly but the white bandage on his nose.

"His name is Detective Reagan," she replied coolly. "And if he turns up dead, the best you are looking at is life without parole."

"I didn't kill anybody!" Hastings half yelled, his eyes wide. "I-I barely even touched him! He was the one who hit me!"

"So you just had to hit him back, is that it?"

"No, I didn't even touch him!"

Jackie reached into the file and pulled out a picture of the knife recovered from the scene and her suspect paled. She knew he recognized it, his prints were all over it, but not enough blood on the blade for it to have been used. Still, a little scare might be just what Hastings needed to crack.

"Know what this is? We found it in some of Detective Reagan's blood."

It was this point that her suspect started to tear up. Typical. The kid probably didn't have a clue what he was getting himself into when he and his friends went down to the docks, and any other time she might have gone easy on him. But at the moment, finding Danny was a hell of a lot more important than this guy's feelings.

"I swear, it wasn't me," he said, eyes shining with unshed tears. "It was Eric. He killed the cop!"

Jackie's breath caught in her throat at his words. Was it true? Was Danny really dead? Forcing herself to remain composed, she somehow managed to keep her voice calm.

"What happened?"

Hastings slumped in his seat, obviously trying not to look at the pictures on the table. For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to talk, but soon a soft voice broke the silence in the room.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he muttered. "We were just gonna talk to that guy about selling his stuff around school. Then the cops showed up and … I just pulled the knife to get him to back off, you know? I mean, I tried to take him down without it, but he was too strong. Then when we were fighting over the knife, Eric came up with the crowbar and hit him in the head."

The kid started to cry in earnest, and Jackie found it difficult to hold herself back. They already knew that Danny had been hit with the crowbar at least once, but not what happened after. Did Connors kill him after he went down? And where was the body?

"What happened next?" she asked, all the while dreading the answer.

"He fell over the edge; went into the river," Hastings concluded, looking up for the first time since his story began. "But I didn't kill him. You can't pin that on me."

"Actually we can," Jackie replied, her voice cold. "If what you say is true, Detective Reagan was killed during the course of a crime; and everyone present can be charged with his murder."

She gathered up the pictures and placed them in the file, but stopped at the door.

"You'd better pray he's still alive."

She was.

***B*B***

Erin clamped a hand over her mouth as she leaned against the wall. Her brain tried to calculate survival times in the Hudson in December, but she was kidding herself if she thought this made anything better. If her brother had fallen in the river, than he was probably- No, she couldn't let herself think like that. Danny was alive … he had to be.

"Hey," Jackie's gentle voice broke through her thoughts. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," she managed to reply, fighting back the tears that wanted to fall. "I better give my dad the update."

"Why don't you let me do that?"

Erin gave a sad smile to Danny's partner. She knew this had to be hard on her too, but the detective somehow managed to stay in control. It was a lot like when Danny … God, this couldn't be happening. But before she could give an answer, her phone rang. Seeing who it was, Erin forced her emotions back and picked up.

"Hi Dad."

"Erin, what's wrong?"

Should have known better than to try and fool a cop. Still, she didn't want to give him news like this over the phone.

"It's just …everything," she admitted, telling as much of the truth as possible.

"It's gonna be okay, sweetheart."

His voice was strong and soothing, giving her more comfort than he would ever know. She just prayed they would find news to counter hers before she would have to shatter his world.

"I know," she whispered, trying hard to believe what she was saying. "Um …how's Linda?"

"She's …hanging in there. Listen, something happened. I need you to come down the St. Vincent's. It's Jamie."

She nearly dropped the phone as her fragile world began to crumble. No, not Jamie. Joe was already dead, and Danny might be lost for good, but she would not lose her baby brother. With that thought in mind, she hurried into the ER, Jackie at her side, to find her family waiting.

"How is he?" she demanded as soon as she caught sight of her father.

"We're still waiting to hear from the doctor," Frank answered, taking her into his arms. "But he was stable when they brought him in."

She let out a sigh of relief, melting into his embrace. Even as a grown woman, few things brought comfort like a hug from Daddy. Pulling back, she turned to greet Henry, who told her that Nicki had stayed behind to help Linda with the kids. Renzulli stood nearby with several other officers and members of the commissioner's detail. The number of people made the room crowded, but it warmed Erin's heart to see so many supporting her family. And they were going to need that support very soon.

"Commissioner Reagan?" a doctor called, stepping into the room.

"Doctor," Frank replied, dwarfing the smaller man. "How is he?"

"Lucky. Your son is suffering from a mild concussion, but he is going to be just fine."

"Thank God," Frank sighed. "Do you know what happened?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself. He's right in here."

Following the doctor, the three Reagans soon found themselves in an exam room where Jamie was perched on the edge of the bed.

"Back in bed, Mr. Reagan," the doctor ordered.

"I'm fine, doc," he insisted. "I have to get back out there. Danny is-"

"We've got a hundred men out there looking for Danny right now," Frank assured him, helping his youngest lean back against the pillows. "Just rest. They'll find them."

"But they don't know where to look," Jamie pleaded, trying to push away his father's hands.

Knowing that she couldn't keep this to herself any longer, Erin took a deep breath.

"I think I know."

"What?" Henry gave her a puzzled look. "Where?'

"The river," she forced out, dropping her gaze. "Jackie just questioned a witness that saw Danny get hit by a crowbar … and fall into the Hudson."

"My god," Frank breathed.

"That makes sense," Jamie muttered.

Erin snapped her head up to stare at him in shock. What? Their brother may be dead and that makes sense? What was he talking about?

"No," Jamie winced as he shook his head. "I mean, that's why he didn't recognize me. Don't you see? Danny is alive, he's just … homeless."

Worried that her brother's head injury was worse than the doctor let on, Erin looked to her father for guidance. Sure enough, Frank stepped up to Jamie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Jamie, you've been through a lot-"

"I know what I saw," he snapped.

Irritability, the fun side of head injuries. Luckily, raising three sons had given her dad more than enough experience to deal with this episode. Maintaining a low, even tone, he tried again.

"I just want to make sure that _you're_ sure before we go any farther."

"I'm sure, Dad."

"You have a concussion," Erin pointed out.

"Yeah," Jamie replied calmly. "And Danny is the one who gave it to me."

* * *

So, what do you think?

Now that the family knows, will they be able to help Danny?

Oh, and let me know if you have any requests (as I really do try to work them in). I look forward to your feedback as I finish up the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry again for the wait, work changed my schedule on me and family came int town.

Anyway, I was asked to include Danny's family, so this is what I came up with.

This chapter is for JC-SFGiants for managing three detailed reviews and the wonderful Shaz1 for their awesome beta skills.

Enjoy ...

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Hudson stared into the ever present flames while Riley made lunch and Wolf told him what happened in town. He could still feel the cold steel of the gun in his hands. All he remembered was violence, but that couldn't be everything. Could it? He closed his eyes, trying to find something in the fog that was good, something not bogged down by pain and death. And for a moment, he saw a baby in the arms of a toddler. The image was fuzzy, but he held onto it as tightly as he could. He had no idea who the children were, but drowning in amnesia, that was his only lifeline. His only memory of love.

"But will the officer be alright?" Riley asked, pulling him out of his thoughts to hand him a bowl of soup.

"Should be fine," Hudson replied, stirring the thin broth. "I didn't hit him that hard."

"It's a win lose situation either way," Wolf muttered. "If he lives, he'll be the only one hounding you. He dies, there is one less blue demon on the street, but the rest come down on your head with no mercy."

"Blue demon?" Hudson shot him a look. "Kinda dramatic don't you think?"

Wolf sighed and set down his untouched food, mentioning something about needing to walk Sandy. Riley offered him a small smile and handed over a length of rope that the younger man tied to the dog's collar.

"Touchy subject?" Hudson asked as soon as the two were out of sight.

"For both of us," Riley admitted.

"What happened?"

"It was four years ago," the old man started softly. "Wolf was out dumpster diving when he saw a cop taking money from a local drug dealer. He got away that time, but not before taking a stomach full of broken glass. His next run in with the law was not so lucky."

"They shot him?"

"In the back and left for dead, damn cowards," Riley spat. "Bullet went straight through; I couldn't stop the bleeding. It was the only time I ever chanced a hospital since those so called doctors killed my wife."

"And no one did anything about it?"

"Who would we report it to?" he sighed, shaking his head sadly. "It wasn't even the same cop from before that shot him. So, when a couple of detectives took down his statement, but he told them it was a robbery and that he never saw their faces."

"And the idiots believed him," Hudson muttered, half to himself.

He clenched his fists at the thought of what his friends went through, how it still haunted them. Now it might just be the amnesia, but he could have sworn a cop's job was to protect the people of their city; and that included the homeless. Somehow, someway, he would get justice for his friend, even if he had to take on the whole of NYPD to do it.

"I know that look," Riley commented.

"And what look is that?"

"The same one I have seen on many a man's face," he replied thoughtfully. "I have lived a long time, Hudson, through wars and tragedies. I know what a desire for revenge looks like. I would just caution you not to go after the wrong-"

"Blue demon?"

"In 1976, a rookie cop saved me from a handful of thugs and it turned my life around."

"Your point?"

"There are blue demons and there are officers. Wolf can't tell the difference anymore; I just hope you can."

He didn't get a chance to reply before the subject of their discussion returned to camp with Sandy. As Wolf told Riley about running into a friend of theirs, Hudson mulled over the old man's words. Deep down, he knew the difference between the demons and the officers. The only thing was, he wasn't completely sure if he had ever acknowledged it before. Knocking out that cop had been almost instinctual. How many times had he had done the same thing, regardless of what side they were on? He closed his eyes, pulling up the fuzzy picture of the two boys. With the emotions and images warring in his mind, he just wanted to hold onto that moment of innocence … whoever they were.

***B*B***

Jamie walked along the mantle at Danny's house, looking over pictures of his brother and his family. He stopped to pick up one of Jack holding a newborn Sean, wondering how the boys were handling the news that their own father might not recognize them.

"Danny took that the day we brought Sean home," Linda commented, coming into the room. "I wanted to kill him for letting a two year old hold my baby without help, but he insisted Jack was fine."

"That's Danny," Jamie murmured, placing the picture back on the mantle. "Have you told them what happened?"

"Yeah. Jack seems to be doing okay, but I'm not sure how well Sean understands."

Jamie nodded, but the slight movement caused his head to hurt. Damn concussion. Linda seemed to notice and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a minute later with a glass of water and pain killer.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking the medication.

Of course his gratitude wasn't just for the pill, but for the use of her house as a recover spot rather than the hospital. Agreeing to stay with Linda was the only way his father and the doctor to let him out that bed.

"You know you're supposed to be resting right?'

Then again, there was a reason his dad had suggested Linda; he doubted even Danny pushed it with her. Giving in to his sister-in-law, Jamie headed for the couch, but only made it half way before the door opened.

"Uncle Jamie!" his nephews shouted, running toward him.

"Hey!" Nicki scolded, catching them by the collars of their jackets. "He got hurt, remember."

"It's okay," Jamie assured his niece, as the boys hugged him at a much slower pace. "I'm fine."

"Dad hit you?" Jack questioned.

"Yeah."

"And you're still standing?" he exclaimed.

"I wasn't at the time," Jamie chuckled. "Your Dad hits pretty hard."

"But you still remember us, right?" Sean inquired.

Jamie felt a lump in his throat as the memory of the fight came back in detail. He could see his brother's face, void of all recognition and emotion. He told himself it was temporary, but it still felt like he had lost Joe all over again.

"Of course he remembers you," Linda cut in, pulling him from his thoughts. "Now, you have one hour for video games before dinner, so don't waste it."

The boys hurried off but Nicki stayed behind, joining Jamie on the couch while Linda went to make dinner.

"You really okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, remembering not to nod this time. "I'm fine."

"Was it hard?"

"What?"

"Fighting Uncle Danny."

"Well, he is a pretty good fighter," Jamie joked.

"You know what I mean," the teen rolled her eyes.

"It's, uh, not really something I'd want to go through again," he admitted.

"Nicki," Linda called from the doorway. "Think you can help me peel some potatoes?'

"Sure."

Allowing her niece past her, Linda walked over to the couch, motioning to the now empty cup in Jamie's hands.

"Want a refill?"

"No, I'm good."

She smiled and headed back to the kitchen. He didn't know how she managed to keep it together so well with her husband missing, three kids running around, and now her brother-in-law laid up on her couch. Danny was lucky to have found her, they all were.

"And Linda?"

"Yeah?" she asked, pausing at the door.

"Thanks … for everything."

"Thanks for finding him," she smiled.

With that, she slipped into the kitchen leaving Jamie alone with his thoughts. And looking around the living room, seeing the mementos of his brother's life, those thoughts became a vow.

_I will find you again, Danny. I will bring you home._

***B*B***

Hudson lay back on his pile of blankets, eyes closed as he tried to retrieve any memories floating around in the void. So far, all he could manage to dig up was the image of an irritated teenage girl with dark hair. Not a particularly pleasant, or helpful, memory; still it was one more piece in a giant broken puzzle.

"Well, I'm off."

Snapping his head up to see Riley putting on his scarf and gloves, Hudson couldn't help but wonder if he was the amnesiac or if it was the old man. He could have sworn that, with the added heat from the cops, the three of them had agreed to stay in tonight. So where did he think he was going?

"You're kidding?" Wolf questioned, his needle stop halfway into one of his shirts. "You're still going?"

"Going where?" Hudson asked, sitting up to join the conversation.

"The Third Street Mission," Riley replied simply. "It's Friday."

"Go to the fish fry next week," Wolf suggested, returning to his sewing. "It's not like it's gonna be any different than the last thousand times."

"It's not about the fish fry, it's the principle. I have gone every week for over thirty years; I can't just stop."

"We're wanted by the police," Wolf pointed out.

"Technically, Hudson is wanted by the police and you are, possibly, believed to be dead. I am neither, so I am going."

As the two new friends stared each other down, Hudson felt a twinge of familiarity with the situation. Whoever he was, he must have had a stubborn old man in his life as well. And it was that instinct that told him that he and Wolf were fighting a losing battle if they thought they could actually keep Riley home.

"You want us to go with you?" he offered, gaining a smile from Riley and a glare from Wolf.

"Thank you, but I think I can manage. Why don't the two of you go down to Washington Square? You'll get a hot meal, courtesy of St. Augustine's, and who knows; you might run into someone that knows Hudson."

"Yeah," Wolf scoffed. "Like a blue demon."

Mulling it over, Hudson could see both their points. Spending time around people like him might help jog his memory, but after his run in with the officer that morning, any outing was going to have a certain amount of risk. Then again, sitting around here wasn't helping him remember anything more than angry teenagers, so …

"Sounds like fun," he stated, pulling his coat from behind his head.

"Now I know _you're_ kidding," Wolf exclaimed. "That place is, like, the NYPD backyard."

"Don't worry," Hudson smirked, pulling on his coat. "I'll protect you."

Wolf rolled his eyes, but got ready to go anyway. His friend may have just taken what he said as a verbal jab, but he couldn't be more serious. Cops had hurt them in the past, and there was no way he would allow that to ever happen again.

* * *

So, you all still liking it?

I've got the next chapter almost ready to send to my beta, but I am still open to any comments or suggestions that you have.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello all.

This chapter has no Jamie, but I hope you will forgive me by the time you reach the end.

Thanks again to all who reviewed and to my wonderful beta, Shaz1.

Enjoy ...

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Frank stood at the window of his office, looking out over his city. Many times he had stood sentry in this very spot, usually when a case was bothering him and tonight was no different. Thirty thousand men at his disposal, the highest rank in the most powerful police force in the world, all the power that came with that position, but he still couldn't guarantee his own son had adequate food and shelter.

"Sir?"

"Baker," he replied, without looking away from the city. "I hope you are not here to try and convince me to eat."

"I would never do that, sir."

He allowed himself a small smile at the comment. Though, to be fair, she was about the only person who hadn't recommended it and most had been put up to it by the leader of the movement. His father meant well, and after all that had happened with Danny, Frank understood entirely. However, until he knew his son was safe, dinner could wait. Turning away from the window he headed to his desk and allowed his aid to continue.

"Fingerprints are back on the gun," Baker informed him, handing him one of three files. "Three sets were found. Two belonged to your sons and the third to an Elmer Wolfric."

"And what do you have on Mr. Wolfric?" Frank questioned, his eyes scanning the report.

"Born in New Jersey, he moved to New York when he was fifteen," Baker answered, handing him another file. "DUI at twenty-one, two accounts of public intoxication at twenty-six, but nothing since. His last residence was an apartment in Queens, but he was evicted in March of 2005."

"Could Jamie make a positive ID?"

"He didn't see him well enough."

"Okay. What are we doing to find him?"

"People we have interviewed all claim that he lives with or close to Carl Riley," she replied, handing him the third file. "A regular guest in the drunk tank from 1971 until 1976. Not much on him since then, but we do know that he will be at the Third Street Mission tonight for their weekly fish fry. Detective Curatola is on her way to pick him up as we speak."

Frank nodded, but said nothing as he looked at an old mug shot of Mr. Riley. After a moment he closed the file and returned to his spot at the window.

"Let me know when he is brought in."

"Yes sir."

He didn't hear Baker leave, though he knew she did. At the moment Frank's mind was on his son and the two men connected to his disappearance. Somewhere out there in that sea of lights, his oldest was fighting the very elements for his survival, and he prayed that Carl Riley would be able to give them the answers they needed to bring Danny home.

***B*B***

Hudson wiped the last of the spaghetti sauce off his plate with his bread and popped it into his mouth. Who knew being homeless could taste so good? Wolf took his dishes, handing them off to a volunteer, just before another passed out new hats and gloves to those who needed them.

"So, how often do these things happen?" Hudson asked, motioning around the park as he tried on his new gloves.

"The church comes out every other week," Wolf replied, pulling on his new hat. "Riley is always at the fish fry, so I try to grab him stuff when I can."

"I thought they only let you pick one thing."

"Wolf," a pretty blond whispered, slipping him a brown paper bag. "I got the things you asked for. I hope it helps."

"Thanks Star," he grinned, kissing her hand.

She giggled, but looked up when someone called the name 'Karen.' Guess Riley was right about it not being personal when Wolf couldn't remember your name. She excused herself and hurried off, leaving his friend grinning after her like a love sick puppy.

"You're pathetic, you know that?"

"Who asked you," Wolf scowled.

"If you like her, why don't you-"

"What? Ask her to a moonlit dinner of roadkill stew under the Brooklyn Bridge? Yeah, that's romantic."

"Hold on, is that what we've been eating?"

Wolf rolled his eyes but didn't reply as he checked the contents of the paper bag. Gloves, at least a dozen hand-warmers, cough drops, vitamin-c supplements; why did Hudson get the feeling that the old man needed a lot more than that?

"How sick is Riley?"

"Not really sure since he doesn't trust doctors," Wolf sighed, shoving the objects back into the bag. "but don't worry, I'm looking after him."

_I'll look after him._

The words brought up the first clear image out of the void and in his mind Hudson saw a boy. He couldn't have been more than nine or ten with brown hair, blue jeans, a black jacket and a green backpack. His face was a look of determination, but there was fear in his eyes. The boy needed help, his help … but who was he?

"Hudson?"

"I just remembered something," he murmured. "A brown-haired boy in green backpack."

"A brown-haired boy? In New York City?"

"I know it's not gonna be easy, but I have to find him."

"How?"

Before he even could think of an answer, someone came running up. Based on the newspaper bunched up in his jacket, he wasn't with the church.

"Wolf! Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Old man Riley just got arrested!"

Hudson clenched his fists, suddenly wanting to pound someone. Damn cops! He and Wolf jumped to their feet and headed toward the Third Street Mission, the homeless messenger at their heels.

"What happened, Muddy?" Wolf questioned.

"I was headed to the fish fry when I saw some cops hanging around. Then a lady cop put Riley in the back of her car. Dude, what's going on?"

"Never mind," Wolf waved him off, hurrying up to the mission.

The two stepped inside and Hudson went straight for the priest. Wolf grabbed his arm, pulling on off track and over to a teenager who looked upset. Trusting his friend on this one, Hudson focused on the girl.

"Wolf?" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know they would arrest him. I would have t-told him to stay away."

"It's alright, Baby Girl," he soothed. "He wouldn't have done it anyway. Just tell us what happened."

"A cop came by this afternoon, asking about you and Riley. They had pictures of you two and some guy."

"What guy?" Hudson questioned.

"I don't know. I was watching from across the room, but I know I saw Wolf and Riley."

It was probably him, Hudson thought bitterly. But how did they make the connection to Riley? And how bad off was the cop to generate a city wide man hunt? He could have sworn he didn't hit him that hard.

"When he got here, Steven called a detective. Then she just came and took him. But why Riley? He never hurt anyone."

Hudson couldn't agree more as he asked exactly where Steven was. Once he found the volunteer, it didn't take much to get the guy to give up the cop's business card. Sometimes, not being the world's nicest guy paid off.

"What are you gonna do?" Wolf asked nervously.

"The only thing I can do."

With the card in hand, Hudson headed back to the streets. He was the one that hurt the cop, he was the one they were after, and there was no way in hell he would let Riley take the fall.

***B*B***

Jackie looked through the window into the interrogation room at Carl Riley. The streets had not been kind to him and he looked every bit of his sixty-five years. He had been offered coffee, which he had refused, and now he just sat silently in the chair; the image of defiance. This was gonna be fun.

"Mr. Riley," she greeted, taking the seat across the table. "We just had a few questions for you."

"And I have the right to remain silent."

"You are not under arrest, we only need some information."

Riley just silently stared past her and Jackie fought back the urge to groan. Getting information out of some of the people on the streets was like pulling teeth. They run into one bad cop and suddenly everyone with a badge is a monster.

"Look, you and your friends are not in trouble. We are not out to arrest you, we're just looking for someone."

"I'll tell you what I can."

Since that was the best she could get, Jackie opened up her file and pulled out a mug shot of Wolfric. Riley barely glanced at the picture before his eyes hardened and he turned his gaze to the corner of the room.

"What can you tell me about Elmer Wolfric?"

"I can tell you he does not like to be called Elmer Wolfric," he answered shortly.

"Okay …anything else?"

"He can't cook."

Now Jackie suppressed the urge to bang her head into the table. This wasn't working, time to pull out the big guns. Reaching into the file, she pulled out Danny's NYPD portrait and placed it over top of Wolfric's photo.

"Do you recognize this man?"

Riley looked down and his eyes grew wide. Pulling the picture closer, he studied the face, muttering a curse under his breath. It appeared that the answer was yes.

"He's a cop?" Riley asked, his voice taking a far gentler tone.

"His name is Detective Daniel Reagan. He went missing on the job last night, but was seen this morning with your friend Elmer."

"Wolf," Riley corrected. "He and I fished him out of the Hudson. That's what we've been calling him. Good Lord, I can't believe … though, it does make some sense I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"He said guns felt familiar and every time he got upset he would touch his hip."

Jackie smiled and shook her head. Well, at least he was still Danny ... to a point anyway.

"Did you say his name was Reagan? Any relation to the Police Commissioner?"

"His son," Jackie answered. "Can you tell us where he is?"

"I wish I could," Riley sighed. "He and Wolf were going to Washington Square for dinner, but I'm not sure if he is still there."

"At least it's a start," Jackie said as she rose to her feet. "Thank you for your help."

She hurried back to her desk, calling out orders along the way.

"He's at Washington Square. Have local units set up a perimeter, but do not approach," she took her gun out of her desk and put it in her holster. "I'll call the PC and- why is no one moving?"

All the cops in the room just stared at her, as if she had suddenly started speaking another language. What was going on here? It suddenly dawned on Jackie that they were not looking at her, they were looking past her.

"I don't think you'll need that perimeter, detective."

Her breath caught in her throat at the familiar voice and she turned around, praying it was not some kind of trick. There he was. Dressed like the man in interrogation and with no sign of recognition in his eyes, was her partner … and he was pissed.

"Looks like you found me."

* * *

Anyone see that coming?

I welcome any comments/suggests with open arms and look forward to hearing from you while I finish up the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey everyone. I hope you all had a great holiday.

I had been hoping to have this story finished by Christmas, but that is clearly not going to happen. (I've been sick for almost a week now and it is not easy to write when you are sleeping 18 hours of the day.)

Anyway, I would like to thank 1monster2 for their invaluble help hashing out the opening as well as Shaz1 for their awesome beta work.

Enjoy ...

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Leading the way into the interrogation room, Jackie motioned for Danny to have a seat, which he did, slouching comfortably in the chair as he had a thousand times before. Recognition may be missing, but his mannerisms were there. There was still hope.

"Feel familiar?" she prompted.

"I don't know," Danny shrugged. "Should it?"

"Well, you've been here enough times."

"Had a feeling about that."

She watched his face, hoping to see some spark of familiarity, but there was none. Just like Jamie described; it was Danny, but it wasn't.

"So," he started, jostling her from her thoughts. "I'm curious, how bad exactly does a man's record have to be for you to drag in a sixty-something year old homeless man who's last major crime was jay-walking?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Danny replied darkly, raising to his feet. "I did something, so Riley is, what? Guilty by association? The NYPD doesn't have anything better to do then to harass harmless old men?"

He circled the table and leaned down next to her, giving Jackie a pretty good idea of what it felt like to be one of his suspects. Only, he seemed to think _he_ was the criminal. How he got that idea into his head, the detective had no clue, but she was going to find out … right after her partner got done interrogating her.

"So what was it?" Danny questioned. "Drugs? Theft? Assault? What did I do to justify you dragging Riley off the street?"

Wow. He honestly wanted to know what his crime was. But how do you explain to someone this agitated that the reason they can't remember their crime is because they haven't done anything? Before she could figure it out, Gormley opened the door.

"The PC is here."

Nodding in understanding, Jackie rose to her feet and silently followed the sergeant out of the room. As she closed the door she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. They found Danny, but he was still lost. Taking a breath, she forced back her emotions to give her report on her partner's condition.

"Sir," she greeted the commissioner.

"Jackie," he replied. "How is he doing?"

"Aside from the fact he thinks he is a homeless criminal named Hudson; he's doing okay."

Frank nodded and headed into the interrogation room, Danny's file in hand. As much as she would love to flip on the intercom to hear what was being said, she knew this moment deserved some privacy.

"Jackie!"

Turning, she saw Linda and Jamie headed her way. Stepping away from the window, she intercepted them before they would get a chance to see Danny in his current state.

"They said they found him?" Linda asked, her voice almost desperate. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Jackie assured her. "We're still gonna get a doctor to confirm it, but he's okay."

"Was he able to remember you?" Jamie questioned.

"No," Jackie dropped her gaze. "But your dad is with him now. Maybe he'll have better luck."

No sooner had she spoken than a loud crash was heard from inside the interrogation room. The commissioner's detail was the first to respond, followed closely by Jackie and the rest of Danny's family. But no sooner had the detail reached the door, that Frank stepped out.

"As you were," he ordered.

As everyone went back to what they had been doing, Frank had a word with Baker before coming over to where Jackie, Jamie and Linda were waiting. He gave them a reassuring smile, but there was sadness in his eyes.

"Danny doesn't want to go to a hospital," he explained, his tone light.

"He's a Reagan," Jackie grinned. "For you guys, that's a good sign."

***B*B***

Hudson looked out the car window, his mind reeling after all that had happened. Despite his protests, he had spent the night in the hospital getting tested for everything under the sun. Now, with the doctor's satisfied, he was being driven out to Staten Island to a house he didn't remember, but apparently owned. On top of that, he was going to be meeting his two sons for the first time. Of course, all he wanted to do was go back to Riley's camp and wait for his head to stop spinning, but with all the babysitters the Police Commissioner –or rather his dad – put on him, there wasn't much chance of that happening any time soon.

"Here we are," the lady cop – partner, Jackie – announced.

"Great," he muttered.

At least it was a nice house, he thought in an attempt to make him feel better about his forced assimilation. He had barely stepped out of the car when two boys came running at him.

"Dad!" they shouted.

Though he had been warned about this, Hudson immediately backed up, taking on a defensive stance, before the young cop – brother, Jamie– and the blond – wife, Linda – pulled the two back. The hurt in the boys' faces was like a knife to the gut. What was wrong with him? They were his kids, and he couldn't even- Muttering a curse under his breath, he pounded his fist into the side of the car. Damn, this was frustrating!

"Danny?"

It took a second for Hudson to remember that he was Danny, causing him to look up at the new face. She was pretty, with shoulder length brown hair, and professional looking clothes. He racked his brain to remember who they said she was, but came up blank. On that note, he couldn't remember his sons' names either. Why did he have to have such a huge family?

"Why don't you come inside," brown-haired lady coaxed with a sympathetic smile. "We made breakfast."

He nodded, forcing himself to relax. Of course what he wanted to do was point out that he was an amnesiac, not a two year old, and did not need anyone to coddle him. Stepping into the house, Hudson waited for the enviable flood of memories … but they never came. His head hurt from all the new information, but it was all just a jumble and still the memory of the boy in the green backpack pushed its way to the surface. He needed to find that kid. A quick glance at his sons showed that neither was the boy in question. As he sat down at the table, pretending to know what he was doing, he started to form a plan. He was going to find that kid, even if he had to ditch his well-meaning family to do it.

***B*B***

Jamie stepped into the house with his two nephews, tired after an hour long game of catch. Sending the boys to wash up for lunch, he opened the fridge for a cold drink. As tempting as the beer was, he wasn't fully over his concussion and forced himself to stick with a soda.

"Jamie," Linda spoke frantically, rushing into the kitchen. "Danny's gone."

"Wha- Wasn't he taking a nap?"

"I just checked. The rooms empty and the window was open."

Jamie cursed under his breath and pulled out his cell, grateful that he still had his coat on. After calling Jackie for a ride, as well as assuring Linda that he would find Danny, he set off in search of his big brother. And he knew just were to start ...

"Charming place," Jackie commented, as they passed several hobo type camps.

Jamie shrugged and approached one of the residents, pulling out a picture of his brother. He decided to use one from a Jets game they had gone to rather than him in uniform. Based on his last encounter, not a lot of people down here trusted cops.

"Excuse me," he called to a greasy man in his forties. "Have you seen this man?"

"Maybe I have and maybe I haven't," the man huffed, subtly holding out his hand. "How much is it worth to ya?"

"I don't know," Jackie cut in flashing her badge. "How much is it worth to you?"

"Not that much," he muttered. "Check with old man Riley, two camps down."

Jamie nodded and hurried farther down the river bank. He took a minute to glance back at the docks where the ill-fated bust went down and felt his blood start to boil.

"Hey," Jackie nudged his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I was just thinking," Jamie sighed, jerking his thumb at all the camps between them and the docks. "He floated passed all these people and no one did anything."

"Well, not no one," Jackie replied, inclining her head to a make shift camp.

Jamie looked up to see an old man, in his mid 60's, peeling a potato with wrinkled brown hands. Must be old man Riley. Next to him, a dog stretched lazily and a younger guy, who he immediately recognized as Elmer Wolfric, tended to a fire. There was no sign of Danny.

"Detective," Riley greeted warmly, causing Wolfric's head to snap up. "I wondered when you might show up."

"I take it you were expecting us," Jackie replied casually, before gesturing to the fire. "Do you mind?"

"Help yourselves," Riley smiled. "Wolf, why don't you find a seat for our guests?"

Avoiding eye contact, Wolfric got up and went behind the tent, returning with a sort of make-shift bench fashioned out of scrap wood. He set it down, and then returned to the other side of the fire, apparently fascinated by the flames.

"You here about Hudson?" Wolfric asked quietly.

"Do you know where he is?" Jamie questioned.

Both of the men pointed to a tent where a mound of what appeared to be blankets lay. Watching carefully, Jamie could see the pile move slightly and let out a sigh of relief. At least Danny hadn't lied about needing a nap.

"I told him he could stay as long as he needed," Riley continued. "We can't offer much, but it seems that it is easier for him to think here, rather than his house."

"But how is he supposed to remember who he is out here alone?" Jamie argued.

"He's not alone," Wolfric snapped. "And he has already remembered a lot with us."

"Like what?" Jackie pressed.

"You could just ask me," came a muffled voice from under the blankets.

"Sorry," Wolf apologized.

"It's fine. I figured they would show up sooner or later," Danny replied, sitting up enough that they could see his face. "So, you two find anything yet on the kid in the green backpack?"

Unbelievable. His family was sitting at home, worried sick, and all he could think about was some kid in a green backpack. If he wasn't trying to be so understanding, Jamie would have hit him.

"No, we're still looking," Jackie replied, surprisingly calm. "Why don't we go back to your house and talk about it?"

"No can do," he grunted, lying back down.

"Come on, Danny," Jamie groaned. "Let's just go."

"You go," came the muffled reply. "I'm staying here."

"There is no use in arguing," Riley sighed. "I've already tried."

"For an hour," Wolfric mumbled.

Jamie turned his attention to the two homeless men on the other side of the fire. Wolf had once again averted his gaze, while Riley gave the two a sad smile.

"He has vowed to remain here until he finds the boy in the green backpack … no matter how long it takes."

* * *

So, it looks like finding Danny was half the battle, but will they find the kid?

Let me know what you think so far, in the meantime I will keep working on chapter 8.


	8. Chapter 8

Here it is, my last post of 2012.

This chapter is dedicated to my Mom and Dad who, though they don't read fanfiction, introduced me to this wonderful show called "Blue Bloods" and gave me help with the content of this chapter. (Mostly in ways like_ *enters room* ME: Hey Dad, what would the Reagans do if (insert situation here)? DAD: Probably (insert answer here). ME: Thanks. *leaves room*_)

I would also like to thank my beta, Shaz1, and the many people who review to each chapter. You are the ones that keep me writing.

Enjoy ...

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Frank looked over a few open cases that needed his attention, all the while reminding himself that Danny was a grown man who could look after himself, memories or not. Based on what they had seen, his son's instincts were working just fine. On top of that, his run in with Jamie demonstrated how effectively he could protect himself from any potential threats. But he was fooling himself if he thought that changed anything. Danny was still one of his kids and, like any father, he wanted all his kids safe at home.

"Dinner's ready!"

Looking up at Erin's call, Frank folded up his files and headed for the dining room, taking his place at the head of the table. Like the other adults at the table, he pretended not to notice the missing chair next to Linda as his family sat down to their Sunday dinner. It was much quieter than usual, but not anymore than when a case was affecting the family. All in all, their efforts to keep things as normal as possible seemed to be working.

"Jamie, would you say grace?" he asked, as he had many times before.

His youngest nodded and everyone bowed their heads.

"Bless us, Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord-"

"And bring Dad home," Jack cut in.

"Amen," the family chorused.

Well, Frank thought as he reached for the plate of roast beef, so much for ignoring the elephant in the room. But maybe, now that it was said and agreed upon, they could get back to having a quiet family dinner.

"This is stupid," Nikki stated, dropping her fork and crossing her arms.

Or not.

"Nikki," Erin warned.

"No. I'm not just gonna sit here like everything is fine while Uncle Danny is getting his dinner out of a dumpster."

"Is he really eating out of a dumpster?" Sean asked, his eyes shining with concern.

"No," Jamie assured him. "The guys he is staying with have a stash of food. He's fine."

"So I'm just supposed to accept that?"

"Nikki," Erin sighed, clearly as frustrated as her daughter. "Could you just eat your dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not either," Jack added, setting down his fork.

"Me either," Sean mumbled, following in suit.

Linda set down her own fork, resting her head in her hands, while Erin looked about ready to do the same. Jamie quietly set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, staring down at his empty plate. Across the table, Henry caught Frank's eye and the two came to a silent agreement on the only way to end the hunger strike.

***B*B***

"Hey Riley?"

Hudson looked up to see a ragged woman, who looked slightly younger than his friend, warming her wrinkled hands at their fire. In the few days he had been there, he had grown used to various members of the homeless community dropping by to visit one of their senior members. Though, they were usually not just social visits.

"Brenda," Riley greeted, in his usual friendly manner. "It's been a long time. How's your dog?"

"Oh, Baily is fine, just fine," she replied with a grin. "But, um, I was just wondering …"

Here we go, Hudson thought with an internal sigh. She was going to ask for a blanket, or food, or something that Riley was always willing to give. And as Miss Brenda walked away with their last potato, he could help but marvel at the fact the old guy had not starved or frozen to death.

"How is that man still alive?" Hudson muttered to Wolf.

"The same reason he always has something to give," he whispered back. "He's got a lot of people out there making sure he doesn't run out of something."

"Well, I think your veggie guy could use a call."

"We can survive on carrot soup for one night," Riley cut in. "And you two should be grateful we have food at all."

"I know," Wolf mumbled.

"Yeah," Hudson added. "Sorry."

The old man nodded, pulling out his cooking pot and what was left of their vegetables. Hudson grabbed the peeler, ready to do his part, but the old man wasn't giving up the food. When he looked up to ask why, he noticed that his friend's attention was no longer on their dinner, but on something going on behind him.

"Whoa," Wolf whispered. "EB's got friends."

"Those aren't his friends" Hudson muttered, getting to his feet to approach the group. "What are you doing out here?"

"Well," the commissioner – dad … better just stick with dad – replied with a smile. "You probably don't remember, but our family meets for dinner together every Sunday."

"We didn't want to do it without you," his older son – Jack …maybe Jake? – added, caring a basket of bread.

"Just for him?" Wolf wondered, eying a large salad the brown-haired woman held.

"We have enough to share," a teenage girl – who he didn't know at all – answered.

In minutes, Wolf and Hudson had scrounged up a few more benches and the eleven of them were dishing up china plates full of roast beef, mashed potatoes, salad, and bread rolls. It was a feast compared to what he was used to and something about it brought Hudson back to a brightly lit dining room with a long wooden table. There wasn't anyone in the fuzzy memory, but it still felt comforting.

"Can you pass the bread, Mrs. Hudson," Wolf asked, bring him back to the present.

"You can call me Linda," she responded, handing over the basket.

"He can, but he won't," Hudson smirked.

"Why not?" the youngest boy – son … Sean? – wondered.

"Wolf can only remember the proper names of about five people, including himself," Riley explained with a small smile. "It's nothing personal, he just has a problem with it."

"Is that why he calls my dad Hudson?" the older boy – who's name he was sure started with J – questioned.

"Sure is. He calls me that because that's where they found me."

"In the river?" he – was his name Jack or was that his partner? – exclaimed.

"The important thing is that he's here now," Linda – he _knew _her name – cut in.

Amen to that, Hudson thought to himself. He wished there was way he could repay his new friends for what they did, what they were still doing. Maybe after he found the kid in the green backpack he could track down the lowlife cops that hurt Wolf.

"So, is it like word association?" the teenager – who was she?– inquired.

"Exactly," Wolf smiled. "For instance, in my head, you are Pixie because your haircut makes me think of a fairy I saw once in a movie."

Pixie? Hudson could go with that until he remembered her real name, not to mention how she was related to him. Of course, he could ask, but why risk the disappointing and sympathetic looks at the reminder he doesn't know them?

"What do you call me?" the little one – Sean … or was it Sam? – asked excitedly.

"You really want to know the words I associate with all of you?"

"Yeah," Sean – it was definitely Sean – grinned.

"Um … okay."

Wolf set down his plate and looked around the circle, starting at the two little boys perched on either side of Hudson.

"Thing One and Thing Two-"

"Hey!" the older one – whatever his name was – protested.

"I don't control what word pops into my head," Wolf said raising his hands, before turning to the brown haired woman – whoever she was.

"Mom," he stated simply.

"Okay …" she said slowly. "Why?"

"You brought food," he shrugged. "You're a mothering sort. So … Mom."

It did work, but for some reason Hudson couldn't make the name stick for him. However, until he got confirmation on his son's names, he was going to call them Thing One and Thing Two. Except maybe Sean … No. To be fair, it would have to be all or none.

"What do you think of for Grandpa?" Pixie asked, spearing a bite of salad.

"Sir."

"That's not a good name," Thing Two – who he was sure was Sean – rolled his eyes. "Lots of people call him that."

"Hey, I never said the words were original. That is just the word that helps me remember him."

"What about Great-Grandpa and Uncle Jamie?" Thing One inquired.

"Well, that depends," Wolf responded cautiously. "Are they easily offended?"

"I don't like the sound of that," Grandpa – better to just stick with that for him – muttered while the Commissioner – Dad – chuckled.

"They aren't going to shoot you," Linda assured him with a small grin. "Too many witnesses."

Wolf swallowed hard and looked at the ground, causing Hudson to immediately get concerned. There was no way she could have known what effect the comment had on the homeless man, but he just hoped no one else noticed. There were a few too many kids around the fire to be talking about cops shooting people in the back.

"Right," Wolf continued, his voice quivering only slightly. "Well, in my mind I remember Hudson's grandpa as … Old Sir."

Though the bearer of the name grumbled slightly, the general reaction was good. However, Hudson could tell that the other men, and possibly the brown-haired woman – who the hell was she? – had noticed that the change was more than just fear of his audience. Luckily, they all seemed to ignore it for now and prodded to see what name Wolf had given his little brother.

"Um … EB."

"EB?" the young cop questioned. "Like the letters?"

"They stand for Energizer Bunny," Hudson interjected.

"What else was I gonna call him?" Wolf questioned his, mostly laughing, audience. "I mean, he just kept coming and coming and coming. The man wouldn't stop!"

The comment didn't do much to calm the group down, but a few shouts from the neighbors about the noise level did. Looking over at a few of the other camps, Hudson instinctively draped his arm around his closest son's shoulders, giving the curious onlookers a warning glare. He knew most people around were friends of Riley, and those that weren't left the old man alone for fear of those that were. However, protection by association only went so far and a few of the characters down here were not people he wanted anyone's kids around, much less his own, whether he remembered them or not.

"You guys should get going," he said firmly, turning back to the group.

"Can't you come too?" Thing One asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"No."

Leaving it at that, Hudson began to pack up their food, purposely ignoring the looks the kids were giving him. Lack of memories aside, he hated what this situation was doing to them. Still, somewhere out there another little boy needed his help. These kids still had a whole family to look out for them, but for all he knew the kid with the green backpack was alone in his suffering and he wouldn't rest until he made sure that boy was as safe as his own.

***B*B***

Erin helped pack up the food, trying to suppress the war of emotions inside her. On one hand, she was hurt that her big brother was a virtual stranger to her. He was still Danny, but with no attachment to the ones who cared for him the most. But as hard as it was for her, as well as Jamie, she knew it was nothing compared to what Linda and the boys were going through. Jack and Sean had both stuck to him like glue since the moment they arrived. But just after he put his arm around Jack, just as he showed the first sign of caring about his kids, Danny turned cold and ordered them to leave. Which brought up her second emotion; severe frustration and anger.

"That was a great meal," Riley stated, his voice slightly strained. "Thank you for sharing."

"Our pleasure," Linda replied. "You alright?"

"Just tired," the old man smiled.

"Why don't you hit the sack," Wolf suggested. "You're not as young as I used to be, you know."

"Yeah, sure," Riley muttered, climbing into a small tent. "Hudson, why don't you walk your family back to their cars?"

"Alright," he nodded, still watching the neighboring camps. "Let's go."

The group said their goodbyes to the two homeless men, before Danny ushered them quickly back to the road. Was he really that eager to get rid of them?

"You sure you don't want to come back with us?" Linda asked. "It's supposed to get pretty cold tonight."

"Don't worry about me," Danny replied gruffly, looking back the way they came. "Just make sure those kids get home okay."

"Wow," she replied, her voice quiet. "For a minute there, you sounded like my husband."

He shot her a look, but quickly turned away. Muttering his own goodbyes, Danny turned to leave. Erin almost let him go, but something made her go after him. She had only gone a few steps when he realized he was being followed. At least some things had not been lost.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, motioning toward the cars. "Get back up there."

"You can't keep denying who you are, Danny."

"Who are you, the family shrink?"

"No, I'm your sister."

He gave her a brief look of understanding, causing a brief flare of anger that he could have forgotten who she was so quickly. But that soon turned to guilt as she realized that she hadn't actually told him who she was. But why hadn't he said anything?

"Well, thanks for caring," Danny said, giving her one of his classic smirks. "See ya later, sis."

He waved and headed back toward the camp, but Erin stayed rooted in place. The gesture, the words, everything he did was so completely Danny … but he wasn't. Tears pricked her eyes at the thought that Danny might never get his memory back, that he might never be the brother she knew again. A strong arm wrapped around her and Erin turned to bury her face in Frank's shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay, sweetheart," he murmured. "He'll come back to us when he's ready."

Erin nodded and walked with him back to the car, all the while praying that it was true.

* * *

So, was it worth the wait?_  
_

I've almost got the next chapter ready to post, but due to Holiday commitments, it will have to wait until tomorrow. (But on the bright side, I have finished chapter 10 and will send it to my beta before I leave.) In the mean time, please let me know what you think.

And to all of you, have a **Happy New Year**.** :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Yay! First post of 2013!

Sorry this is later than I intended. (Long day ... good, but long.)

Thanks again to my faithful readers, reviewers, and beta (Shaz1). You're all awesome.

Enjoy ...

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Hudson woke Wednesday morning, trying to hold onto a dream that was quickly fading away. In moments all that was left was a residual feeling of comfort, but the content of the dream was lost on him. Was it of his wife? Children? Siblings? He growled in frustration as he sat up, pushing aside the mound of blankets that had kept out the chill of December.

"Well, aren't you Mr. Sunshine today," Wolf quipped, pouring a bit of batter into the frying pan.

"Shut up."

He looked around, but didn't see Riley. Then again, he didn't see Sandy either. The two must be on a walk, Hudson concluded before taking his seat by the fire.

"Remember anything new?" Wolf asked, as he had the last two mornings.

"A hockey game," Hudson rubbed his temples. "Skipping rocks with a kid, but that one's fuzzy. Um … ignoring a movie with a hot brunette-"

"Isn't your wife blond?"

"Yeah, that would be a memory I'm **not** sharing over the dinner table."

"Unless you like eating in the dog house," Riley chuckled, joining them beside the fire. "No offense, Sandy."

The mutt seemed far more interested in Wolf's pancakes than Riley's comment, causing the younger man to try and fight her off while the older one launched into the history of the hush-puppy. As they argued about whether or not they had enough batter for a pancake hush-puppy, Hudson closed his eyes and fished around the foggy void for anything else he could dig up. As always, the boy with the green backpack came right to the top.

"Remember something?" Riley asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Just the same kid," Hudson muttered, rubbing his face.

"Still no name for him?" Wolf inquired, handing over a burnt pancake.

"No, nothing," he sighed, picking the blackest parts off his breakfast. "And since my partner and my family say they have no idea who he is, I'm getting nowhere."

"Maybe we should try a different approach," Wolf suggested.

Hudson looked up at his friend, curious to see what he had in mind. After all, their last few ideas had been helpful, even if one did result in him giving his own brother a mild concussion. Still, as Wolf explained his idea, Hudson began to have hope that he could really find this kid. Of course it was a long shot and would probably take a few days, New York was a big city, but there was still the best chance they had.

***B*B***

"Come on," the man in the minivan prodded. "Don't you have any Christmas spirit?"

Jamie sighed inwardly as he continued to write out the ticket. For some reason, people seemed to believe a sale on laptops justified ignoring traffic laws. Gotta love the holidays.

"Just keep an eye on those red lights, or you might not make it to Christmas," Jamie advised turning over the ticket.

Not paying attention to the grumbled curses that followed, Jamie headed back to his squad car where Renzulli was waiting. His partner just shook his head and climbed into the car.

"What?" Jamie questioned, sliding behind the wheel.

"I think that guy had a point. Maybe that knock on your head made you lose more than a couple of days work."

"I'm fine," he insisted, pulling the car back into traffic.

"Kid, we have been riding together long enough for me to know when something is bugging you. Is it your brother?"

Jamie fell silent, pretending to focus on the road even though he was sure Renzulli wasn't buying it. Danny had been living on the streets for almost a week now. As much as he wanted to drag him home, he couldn't. His dad said to give him space, and that's what they were doing. But Christmas was on Sunday, only four days away. What if he didn't remember before then? Where they just supposed to leave him out there in the cold? The radio crackled to life, pulling him out of his depressing thoughts with a report of suspicious characters hanging around a playground.

"This is 12-sergeant, show us responding," Renzulli said into his radio. "Looks like you got saved by the call, kid."

Jamie turned the car around and headed for the park, trying to get thoughts of Danny out of his head. As worried as he was about his brother, he couldn't let his own problems interfere with his work. As the two arrived on scene, they were approached by a concerned mother, towing around a small girl by her hand.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, officers," she whispered, pointed to a pair of dark figures in the trees. "They're over there, just watching the kids. I'm afraid to let my little Annie near the swings. You know how quickly someone can just-"

"It's alright, ma'am," Renzulli assured her. "We'll take it from here."

Jamie approached the pair, his hand resting on his gun. The men looked ragged, in long black coats and wool caps. Still, something about them seemed familiar …

"Excuse me," Renzulli called out. "You two mind stepping over here for a minute."

One of the men tensed at the question, but the other just turned and gave them a look. Instantly Jamie relaxed, wondering if he wanted to laugh or hit him. In the end, he just setting on asking a question.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"It's a nice day," Danny shrugged, looking back at the kids.

"Do you cops have to sneak up on people like that?" Wolf grumbled. "Make more noise when you walk."

"What are you talking about?" Danny shot him a look. "I heard them just fine."

"Well … you're trained for that."

"Maybe your hearing just sucks."

As the banter continued, Renzulli shot Jamie a questioning look. The rookie shrugged, before explaining to his sergeant who the homeless man was and how he was connected to his brother. He had barely finished before Danny started laughing. Looking over to see what was funny, Jamie noticed that Wolfric was now glaring at him. But what did he do?

"You're name is _Elmer_," Danny snickered. "Wow. No wonder you hate names."

"Well at least _I_ can remember _mine_," the other man grumbled.

"So can I; it's Reagan."

"You cheated, it's on your brother's name-tag."

"As entertaining as all this is," Renzulli cut in. "What are you two doing here?"

"We're looking for the kid with the green backpack," Danny answered, turning his gaze back to the playground. "And maybe it's just the amnesia, but I don't recall a law saying a couple of guys can't hang around a park."

"May not be a law, but you are scaring some parents," Renzulli commented.

Though Wolfric looked like he was going to protest, Danny grabbed his arm and shook his head. Huffing in annoyed defeat, the homeless man headed away from the playground, muttering something about demons on a power trip. With one last look at the kids, the amnesic detective moved to follow.

"Danny?"

His brother stopped to give him a questioning look, but what question did he want to ask him? Did he remember him yet? Was he coming home soon? Was he getting enough to eat? Was he warm enough on the streets? Of all the things he wanted to know, only one thing came out.

"It's good to see you."

"You too, kid," Danny replied, his classic smirk in place.

With that, the two ragged men disappeared into the trees. But Jamie just hoped it wasn't another three days before he saw him again.

***B*B***

"I don't know what I'm saying," Hudson growled, as he and Wolf approached that camp. "I'm just saying that EB is starting to feel more familiar."

"But, does this mean you are going home?"

"No."

As firmly as he said it, doubts were beginning to creep in his mind. He didn't remember his family, but something about seeing his brother felt … he didn't even know. But it didn't matter anyway. The kid was the one in trouble not … Jackie? No, that was the partner …or was it his son? Damn it, why did their names have to be so close?

"Maybe if you spent more time with the rest of them, you might change your mind."

"I'm not planning a trip to Staten Island anytime soon, if that's what your aiming at."

"I don't think you'll need too."

Hudson looked to where Wolf was pointing and stopped dead in his tracks. A table had been set up next to Riley's camp and several members of his family, and a whole group of people he didn't recognize, were serving a hot meal to the residences of the various hobo camps. This alone would not bother him, except the fact that the members of his family spearheading it were his wife, sister, and the kids. Where were all the cops? Who was protecting them? And on top of that ...

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled, pulling his wife aside.

"Would you relax," she sighed. "It was the kids' idea. With the holidays here, we thought it would be a good idea to let them give back."

"Then go to a soup kitchen."

"**You** aren't at a soup kitchen," she shot back.

Hudson opened his mouth to argue, when Pixie appeared at his side. Forcing himself to smile at his niece – she was his niece right? –he made a mental note to finish the conversation with Linda later. No need to cause any problems in front of the kids; especially when he saw how happy the teen was.

"Isn't this great?" she grinned. "I never knew there were so many hungry people out here. We should do this every year."

Hell no! But before Hudson could make his protest, Pixie had gone back to serving bread rolls, while Thing One and Thing Two ran over.

"Dad!" they cried in unison.

It was just as it had been four days prior when he had arrived at his house, only this time he managed to keep from flinching back when they wrapped their arms around his waist. The feeling of having the boys – his boys – so close brought back a feeling of comfort, a feeling of being loved. Of course, this made the fact they were out there even worse. He didn't want his sons out here when he didn't remember caring about them; now that it was starting to come back he was starting to get scared. Looking around, he tried to catch sight of the people that had been watching Thing One – Jamie? No. Jackie? No. What was his name? – on Sunday.

"Look how many people came out to help!" Thing Two – Sean –said excitedly. "Kids from the neighborhood and a bunch from Jack's football team."

Jack! That was his name. One mystery solved, and about a thousand more to go. And there were the guys who ave him a bad vibe, right at the edge of the group. As long as they stayed there, he could keep his cool. But if they got any closer, he was going to start bustung heads.

"You hungry, Dad?" Thing One – Jack – asked.

"I made the cornbread," Thing Two – Sean – added.

"Well, then I guess I'm gonna get some cornbread."

For the next hour, until they finally ran out of food, Hudson stuck with his boys and tried to keep an eye on the dangerous looking trio. No easy feat when half the kids there wanted to drill him with questions about being homeless or having amnesia. How a head injury or sleeping in the cold was a novelty, he had no idea, but it was for the kids. Of course, it was worse with the parents who either talked to him like nothing was wrong or treated him like a two year old.

"Bye Danny," a blond woman waved, loading a couple of kids into a van. "See you around."

"Bye," Hudson waved back, plastering a smile on his face before turning to his wife. "Who was that?"

"Sue Grayson," Linda replied dryly. "Her son Travis plays football with Jack."

"We friends?"

"She thinks you are."

Based on the look on her face, it would probably be a good idea to avoid Sue Grayson. Linda may be a virtual stranger to him, but she was still his wife and amnesia was no excuse for getting friendly with the neighbors.

"Hey, Danny," a black haired woman said gently. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine."

"Let me know if there is anything I can do to help out. Anything at all. You too Linda."

Both smiled and nodded as the woman ushered a girl a bit older than Jack into a van with another family. As soon as they pulled away, he looked to Linda for an answer.

"Grace Turner, Sean's teacher."

Casual tone, normal expression; Grace was not a threat. Neither was Joan, Megan, or Laura. Sheila was a gossip, but relatively harmless, and it was Hudson that warned Linda to watch herself around Patricia Mallory. There was just something about that woman that did not sit well with him, not to mention the way her husband was so attentive to the other moms. But he had bigger things to worry about than his neighborhood drama. And now that everyone was gone but his family, he could finally get them to safety.

"Good turn out," his sister commented, as he helped her pack up the last of the dishes.

"Yeah, but do you think you can keep the kids home from now on?"

"Danny, they miss you."

"I know it's just …"

He let out a frustrated sigh, looking back at where the boys were playing with Sandy. The feelings of love were faint, but there. Still, protective instincts were stronger and as much as enjoyed their time together, it was better for everyone if they just stayed away for now.

"Look, I'll be home just as soon as I find that boy with the green backpack. But until then, you need to promise me you'll keep those kids out of this area."

She gave him a sad smile and turned away.

"If that's the way you want it."

"Thanks sis."

As he walked away, he thought he saw a tear on her cheek and it was like an ice pick to the chest. This was another reason his family needed to stay away, being around him did nothing but cause them pain. But soon his memory would be back and he could be there for them again … at least, he hoped so.

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What do you think so far?

Feedback is always welcome and I will get the next part up just as soon as I can. (Been having technical problems with my computer. :P Stupid technology.)


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, the technical problems seem fixed.

This chapter is for JC-SFGiants for picking up on all that I was trying to convey in the last chapter. And once again I would like to thank my beta, Shaz1, for being my beta.

Enjoy ...

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**Chapter 10**

Christmas Eve dawned to find Linda once again waking up alone in her room. The last week had been one of the hardest of her life. First the failed bust and not knowing if Danny survived; then to find him only to realize that she had become nothing but a stranger to him. As tough as it was for her, she could see how devastating it was on her boys. They needed their father, and he didn't even know who they were. It might not have been so bad, if Danny wasn't still so … well, so much like Danny. Pulling on her robe, she walked downstairs to make breakfast, flipping on the radio as she went.

"… _'Cause I just want you here tonight  
Holding on to me so tight  
What more can I do?  
Baby, all I want for Christmas is you …"_

Setting a box of cereal on the counter, Linda covered her eyes with one hand in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. Suddenly she felt a presence beside her and for one fleeting moment she thought it might be Danny. But when she looked up, it was only Jamie. His concussion had long since healed, but there was something about him being in the house that made Danny's absence easier, on all of them. Besides, he was about as stubborn as his brother and wasn't about to leave until he brought him home.

"You okay?" he asked his face full of concern.

"Of all the songs to be playing, right?" she replied, forcing a small smile as she gestured to the radio.

He nodded in understanding and pulled a stack of bowls out of the cupboard. He motioned to the radio, silently asking if he should change the station, but Linda just shook her head. The reminder may be hard, but Mariah Carey's words echoed exactly what she was feeling.

"… _Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas  
This is all I'm asking for  
I just want to see my baby  
Standing right outside my door_

_Oh, I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
Baby, all I want for Christmas is you …"_

As the song played out, Linda set the boxes of cereal on the table and pulled the milk out of the fridge. Not a fancy breakfast, but Henry had insisted that everyone eat light so they would have plenty of room for the big dinner planned for after mass. And, unless something changed between now and then, it would be the second family dinner Danny wouldn't show up for.

***B*B***

Jamie opened his locker and let out a frustrated sigh. A would-be robbery right before the end of his shift had him stuck with paperwork while the rest of his family headed out to mass. Just one more thing that went wrong this week.

"Relax, kid," Renzulli called from his own locker. "It's Christmas Eve and you got another gun collar under your belt. Go have fun, make merry, or whatever it is you Reagans do."

"Not all Reagans," he muttered glumly.

"Hey," his partner said, looking him in the eye. "Your brother is a grown man who knows how to read a calendar. If he wants to spend the holidays freezing his butt off while he looks for some phantom kid in a green backpack, that's on him."

He knew he was right, but it still stung to not be able to do anything about it. But, self-pity aside, it was still Christmas Eve and he had promised his family that he would be there. He quickly changed out of his uniform, grateful he had left a set of church clothes in his locker in case he was running late. Glancing at his watch, he calculated that he should still be able to catch most of the service, if he hurried and took a cab. Sure enough, he managed to slip in the back just as the Priest started the sermon. He could see his dad sitting near the front, but didn't want to cause more of a disruption than he needed.

"Want a seat?" a familiar voice asked.

Looking down, he was stunned to see Riley near the edge of a pew, with Wolf next to him and Danny farther in. The trio moved over enough to allow Jamie to sit and he gave them a silent nod of thanks, deciding to wait until the service was over to ask how they knew what church the Reagans attended. Had Danny remembered? No sooner had the final prayer been spoken that Jamie leaned across to his brother.

"How did you know we would be here?"

"I didn't," he grunted, casting a look at Riley.

So, the old man tricked him. That was why he came to this church instead of one closer to the homeless camps. Still, Jamie would take what he could get.

"Thank you," he whispered, as they stood.

"I merely asked your sister what a good church was for Christmas services," Riley replied, failing to hide a smile.

"And you'll have to give her our regards," Danny muttered. "Let's head back."

"Wait," Jamie demanded, catching Danny by the arm. "You can't leave now. They're right there. You can at least wish your kids a merry Christmas."

"Pass it on for me," he replied, pulling free of Jamie's grasp.

In seconds, Danny and Wolfric had disappeared into the crowd leaving the church. Jamie started after them, but Riley caught his sleeve.

"I know this has been hard on you, on all of you, but you must understand where he is coming from." the old man said softly. "It hurts him to see the disappointment on the faces of his sons when he can't remember them, to see tears in your sister's eyes, to not know your niece's name."

"So I should just leave him alone?"

"I don't think you will have earned Wolf's name for you if you stopped now," Riley grinned, gaining a small chuckle from Jamie. "Just remember, it hurts him as least as much as it hurts you. I just ... wanted you to understand."

"Thank you," he responded. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure. Good night, Officer Reagan, and have a merry Christmas."

As the old man left, the rest of his family approached the exit and he hurried to follow. Once back in the night air, Jamie looked around, hoping to still see Danny nearby. No luck, he was already gone.

"Was that Mr. Riley you were talking to?" Nicki questioned on their way to the cars.

"Yeah," Jamie muttered, not knowing if he should tell who else was there.

"Did you see Dad?" Jack asked his voice hopeful.

"For a bit," he admitted. "He told me to wish you all a Merry Christmas for him."

"Why couldn't he say it himself?" Sean inquired glumly. "Why doesn't he want to be around us anymore?"

"It's not that," Linda assured her youngest, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Your dad is just … he's stubborn."

"Your dad thinks there is someone out there who needs his help," Frank cut in, bending down to look his grandson in the eye. "He doesn't want to stop looking for him until he knows he's okay."

"But _we_ need him," Sean insisted.

"I know," Frank sighed, rising to his feet. "And he'll remember that, we just need to give him some time."

"Hasn't he had enough time?" Henry grumbled.

"Pop."

"I'm just saying that it's Christmas and-"

"Yes," the commissioner cut in. "It's Christmas, a time for forgiveness and generosity, both of which we should offer Danny. He'll come home when he's ready."

His speech was met with silence and Jamie wondered how much of what his dad said was meant to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing by not dragging Danny back where he belonged. But there was one thing he knew for sure, there was pain in his father's eyes, in all of their eyes. Riley's words echoed in his head and suddenly Jamie could see what Danny was running from. But was it right to force his brother to face it just to make the rest of them feel better? Or should they all be made to suffer so that he could be more comfortable?

"I just wish he'd come home now," Jack sighed. "Even if it was just for the night, I don't want him to spend Christmas on the street."

Out of the mouths of babes, Jamie knew what he had to do. After telling Linda he would catch a ride with someone else, he hurried off to hail a cab. And as he rode toward the river he prayed that his nephew's wish would come true.

***B*B***

"You set me up," Hudson accused as Riley entered the camp.

The old man gave no answer, as he began to shake out the bundle of blankets tucked safely in his tent. Wolf shoved their guest bundle into his arms, before turning to ready his own bed.

"Don't bother," he advised. "I've lost count of the stunts he's pulled over the years, but I don't remember him ever actually admitting to them … or denying them, for that matter. Best to just ignore it and move on."

Easy for him to say, Hudson thought bitterly. It was hard enough when he told his sister not to let them come around anymore. Seeing his brother – whatever his name was – in church was too much. His memories were fuzzy, but the feelings that went with them weren't. He knew the babies he had seen with his mind's eye were the boys who he said goodbye to not three days before, and he missed them. But only them. Linda was nothing to him but the vague memory from a dream. His sister was a complete stranger, as was his nameless niece. His father and grandfather were shadows. And his brother … he didn't even know how he felt about him. Then there was the boy in the green backpack. Whoever he was, Hudson cared about him, feared for him. He had to find that kid.

"Heads up," Wolf muttered. "We've got company."

Looking up, Hudson rolled his eyes at his brother's approach. No doubt he was going to try, once again, to get him to cave and come home. But, unless he also brought the name and address of the boy in the green backpack, he was wasting his time.

"Danny, we have to talk."

"We have talked. I've got nothing more to say."

"Then just listen," the younger man snapped, before his voice softened. "It's a message from your son."

The image of the baby in the arms of a toddler flashed through his mind and he knew he couldn't deny the request. Motioning for his brother to take a seat, he joined Wolf next to the fire and waited to hear what his son had to say.

"Jack wants you to come home."

He opened his mouth to point out that he already knew that. In fact, Jack himself had told him that the last time they had seen each other.

"Just for tonight," his brother finished quickly. "Look, I can't imagine how hard this is for you, but you are not going to do anyone any favors by spending Christmas Eve on the street. But if you come home for the night, I promise I will do everything I can to help you find the kid in the green backpack. Just please, don't make your boys spend Christmas without you. They deserve better."

It was a good argument, Hudson couldn't deny that. But how could he? He had already tried it their way and it just made things worse. But maybe, now that he had some of his memory back, it might be different? But what about the kid in the green backpack? What if he didn't have a day to wait?

"Tell Jack I'm sorry."

It was the only answer he could give and he couldn't even look his brother in the eye when he did. A moment of silence passed and the younger man rose to his feet and walked away.

"Son of a bitch," Hudson cursed himself.

Deep down, he knew protecting the boy in the green backpack was a priority, but was it really worth the happiness of his own son? Just when he was starting to contemplate going after his brother, Wolf smacked his arm.

"What?" he growled.

"Trouble," his friend answered, pointing past another camp.

The same camp that gave him a bad vibe, but this time thee three occupants of the camp had stopped his brother halfway between the camps and the road. Immediately, Hudson got to his feet and started to make his way over there, just as one of the bums knocked the rookie to the ground and pulled a knife from their jacket. From the light of nearby fires, Hudson could see the look of defiance on his brother's face, but there was also fear in his eyes that sent rage burning through his veins. Suddenly an image before him changed in his mind, morphing into another that was different but still the same. Defiance … fear … brown hair … black jacket … green backpack … oh God!

"Jamie!"

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Anyone see that coming?

I look forward to to comments/feedback while I finish up the next chapter.


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